Antarctica by Tall Ship: and other unintended adventures (pre-order for 12/1 delivery)

Amazon, Apple, B&N, Kobo, & More

WHAT THE READER GETS:
>Your choice of formats: Kindle, Epub, Print, or Audio.
>Great deals, boxsets, and occasional exclusives.

WHAT THE WRITER GETS:
>25-70% more money.

DELIVERY:
>eBooks: delivered within minutes (seconds) by BookFunnel. May be read in BF app or loaded to the app of your choice.
>Audiobooks: delivered by Bookfunnel. May be listened to in their excellent app (our favorite).
>Print books: will deliver in 1-2 weeks from our printer.

The icy rain—driven by forty-knot winds—stings the bridge of my nose between my eyeglasses. Elsewhere I’m layered deep: thermal underwear, a neck cowl pulled high, and an ear band covered by a hat, all cinched into place by a parka and high-grade sailing slicks.
My gear protects all but my nose from the freezing gale.
But it doesn’t protect me from the battering of the storm.
The ship’s bow rises high, then plunges over the five-meter swells to smash great founts of white spray to either side. Despite my braced position, I’m slammed back against the deck cabin behind me. We climb over the wave, tip past the crest, and plunge into the next trough. I’m at the helm, both hands clinging to the spokes as I stand behind the big multi-spoked wooden wheel. Yet the sudden change is too much and my chest is thrown against the wheel’s aft face.
A cross swell slaps the bow ten degrees off course in a second, and I heave over four, five, six spokes to bring her back on course before another sends us farther off. As she comes onto course, I have to quickly roll them back or she’ll keep turning and we’ll be slammed from the other side.
It’s the midnight watch. I’m standing on the aft deck of the three-masted sailing ship Bark Europa.
We’re crossing the Drake Passage. This narrow gap between Cape Horn at the southern tip of South America and the Antarctic Peninsula is notorious for its storms. Thousands of ships, dating back to two ships lost by Sir Francis Drake himself, have gone to the bottom of the sea for braving these waters. This storm isn’t big enough to be a ship-killer—it only feels that way as I’m once more pounded against the cabin behind me.
Whitecaps race by, caught for an instant as green or red by Europa’s nav lights. Her high bow blows most of the sea aside when she drops down after crossing a crest, but wave tops slam aboard. Seawater runs in swirling, ankle-deep currents that turn her dark wooden deck into a brief racing sea before disappearing out the scuppers with a resounding metal clang of the safety flaps that keep more of the sea out than in.
In the darkest hour of the night, I look over at my fellow helmsman by the dim glow from the nav instruments, ready to assist while awaiting their turn. I check on the two lookouts, shadowy figures outlined by the foaming sea beyond. Unable to shout over the wind’s roar, we trade thumbs-up.
I’m sleep-deprived, running on double dose anti-nausea meds, and my butt still hurts from when I was thrown to the deck and nearly shot out into the sea through an open scupper.
After a lifetime of dreaming, I have walked on The Ice of Antarctica, sailed her waters, and now the storm beats against me as we head back to home port.
I paid to be here.
As I stand in the dark, flung once more against the spoked ship’s wheel, I salute my watchmates with another thumbs-up. Though my warm cowl and the high collar of my foul-weather gear hide my face, I’m sure it does nothing to hide my mood.
I want to shout my joy to the skies.

Initial Publication: December 1, 2026
Print pages: 394 / Lg Print: 474
Over 50 B&W photos (color photos in hardback)